HAPPY COLOR


i am the last to know where i put you
mind my trickery & mine is lumbering
against storm wall of sea birds & foam
mouth i just am a yawn afraid to say oh
my brain is broke in also places like hello
please stand over here behind glass
i see you're in my blindspot it goes on
for several thousand miles in most directions
slightly more north as the earth tilts
to freeze blood in my skull i can feel
nothing move through my forehead &
into me & i go like i am throwing flowers
or all i want is yarn or for christmas i would
read you summer poems in the beer garden &
reply to your face w/ i am afraid of how
glad i am that we are alive at the same time